


Old Books, New Hearts

by MoraMew



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Almost no one went to school where they were supposed to, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Library, Background Relationships, F/M, Fluff, Lawyer!Iwaizumi, Librarian!Yachi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rated M for later Chapters, Side Bokuroo, dorks falling for each other, platonic physically affectionate Mika/Yachi, side akatsuki, side ushiyama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 12:00:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12530848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoraMew/pseuds/MoraMew
Summary: "Hard working lawyer meets cute, nervous librarian. You won't believe what happens next."





	1. "A library card is the start of a lifelong adventure."

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write something a bit sweet and fluffy. This is overly indulgent in so many ways, cliche as heck, and will update sporadically.

****"So...Iwa-chan, what are you still doing at the office? Don't you have a date tonight with what's her face?"  
  
Iwaizumi takes a deep, deep breath and closes his eyes, tries not to let his frustration show.  
  
He doesn't want to give Oikawa the satisfaction.  
  
"No, I don't have a date," Iwaizumi says slowly, eyes remaining shut. "I have a case I need to finish up."  
  
He doesn't need his best friend there to know that a fine brow is arched and that the condescending, sympathetic simper that Iwaizumi _hates_ is all over Oikawa's face.  
  
"Oh, Iwa-chan," Oikawa coos in a saccharine, overly pitying tone, "what happened? I _know_ it wasn't cancelled because of the case."  
  
"Nothing," Iwaizumi tells him, voice thin with the control needed not to snap the word out. He grits his teeth and takes a breath, tries to reel it in his frustration a bit more. "It just didn't work out."  
  
"Mm, but why?" Oikawa asks, voice unduly innocent. "Was it because you're- oh how did the last one put it...'a stick in the mud?'"  
  
"I'm not a stick in the mud," Iwaizumi snaps, eyes flicking open. His frustration rises and before he can stop it, his mouth runs ahead of him with, "Just because I suggested that we have a night in instead of going to a club does _not_ mean I'm a stick in the mud."  
  
The triumphant little noise that Oikawa lets out makes Iwaizumi want to toss his phone out the window.  
  
"Oh, I _knew_ it," Oikawa crows, absolutely delighted by how Iwaizumi's relationship has crashed and burned. Bastard. "Kou-chan said it would be working from too much but I _knew_ it would be wanting to stay home. Oooh, he's going to be _so_ disappointed when he hears he lost the bet."  
  
"I would appreciate it if you two stopped betting on my relationships," Iwaizumi grinds out through gritted teeth.  
  
"Not going to happen," Oikawa tells him gleefully. "I mean, it's not _our_ fault you get in these relationships that are so _obviously_ doomed from the start. You're practically inviting us to make a game out of it, Iwa-chan."  
  
"You're both terrible, Shittykawa," Iwaizumi huffs.  
  
"Perhaps," Oikawa admits. There's some shuffling in the background on the other end of the line, the faint sounds of a door being opened. "But _you're_ the one that keeps falling for the same spoiled little minxes in mini skirts at the bar."  
  
Iwaizumi opens and then closes his mouth, takes a deep breath and then blows it out in a huff.  
  
Oikawa has a point. But Iwaizumi isn't about to tell him that.  
  
"You need a _good_ girl," Oikawa continues on, something nearly lecturing starting to creep up in his tone. "Someone that won't try to drag you to the bar or club every night. You're an old man, Iwa-chan. You should know better than to chase after halter tops; you can't keep up with them."  
  
"We're the _same age_ , Dummykawa," Iwaizumi reminds him, annoyed. "And I don't _chase after_ anyone."  
  
Oikawa hums, the sound very nearly distracted. Iwaizumi thinks he can hear a quiet voice in the background of the call and takes a breath, rests his chin against his fist.  
  
"You tell yourself that," Oikawa says, the words just a beat too late. "And bury yourself in your work to try to forget what's her face. I'd love to tease you more, but my favorite little librarian is working so I need to give her my attention. Don't wallow too much, Iwa-chan."  
  
Before Iwaizumi can snap a retort, Oikawa hangs up and leaves him scowling.  
  
He's not going to wallow. He does not _wallow_. For that _brat_ to even insinuate that he would after all the times Iwaizumi has drug him out of his pity parties is just downright hypocritical.  
  
Iwaizumi huffs and leans against his fist a bit heavier.  
  
He did expect this one to last a little longer, though.  
  
Iwaizumi shakes that frustrated thought away and sits up straight, breathes deep and then pulls his laptop to him.  
  
He won't wallow. But he will bury himself in his work.

* * *

Iwaizumi stays in a bad mood from the breakup for a good three and a half days. It finally starts to lift and manages to get to the point where the secretary doesn't duck her head at the sight of him coming into work. He feels guilty over that and sends her a small gift basket as an unspoken apology.  
  
He doesn't send one to Oikawa, who has whined considerably during the stint about "grumpy Iwa-chan and his terrible temper."  
  
He does, though, end up agreeing to Suga's suggestion that they all meet up for dinner at a restaurant they all enjoy. He even ends up looking forward to it- as much as he's cursed his _shit eating brat_ of a best friend these past few days, he _has_ missed Oikawa; Iwaizumi hasn't been face to face with him in what feels like months.  
  
It's probably only been a week but _still_.  
  
Iwaizumi leaves work on time that night and heads to Nokori, feels himself relax as soon as he steps through the door of the pub. He's relieved to find it quiet with an underwhelming amount of patrons scattered about. The jukebox in the corner is playing something softer than normal, some sort of jazz that Iwaizumi vaguely recognizes. It’s relaxing, the music, the quiet and it makes the tension in his shoulders drop.  
  
Iwaizumi glances around to find his friends and spots them in a booth toward the back, heads together and thoughtful looks on their faces as they murmur to one another.  
  
Suspicion immediately flickers through Iwaizumi when he walks over and their mouths snap shut, when they smile a bit too brightly at him.  
  
Filthy little conspirators are up to something.  
  
Before he can begin to question them, Suga slides a drink over to him- his favorite drink, already pre-ordered for him- with a sweet little expression and Iwaizumi is left a bit deflated, his suspicion pushed to the side in favor of taking a sip of whiskey and sliding his cigarettes out of his pocket.  
  
"Iwa-chan, it's been _ages_ ," Suga says, voice honeyed and maybe even a bit coy. He's obviously trying to distract Iwaizumi from his and Oikawa's whispering. Iwaizumi lets him; he’s a bit too drained from the day to get into it. "How was your day?"  
  
"Not bad," Iwaizumi tells him, sliding a cigarette from his pack and sticking it in his mouth. He paws through his pocket for a lighter and glances over at the both of them huddled together close in the booth, secrets in their eyes. "How was your day?"  
  
"Oh, just peachy," Suga drawls, a finger tracing over the rim of his empty glass. It lifts to nudge the ashtray to Iwaizumi and he gives a nod in thanks, lights up and inhales almost eagerly. "I found out today that some of my students have decided that I need to date Shimizu-san. They're plotting to try to get us together."  
  
Oikawa snorts, the noise unflattering, and leans his chin on his palm, wrinkles his nose. Iwaizumi can spot the scowl he's trying to hide, the displeasure brought on by the statement.  
  
As if Suga would really leave him to chase after a woman that's nigh untouchable. The idiot.  
  
"That sounds like a headache," Iwaizumi comments, voice neutral. Suga huffs in agreement and Oikawa's face smooths a little, tension bleeding out easily. "How was yours, Oikawa?"  
  
Oikawa launches into a story about a tour group consisting of " _t_ _he_ most terrible eight year olds" he's apparently ever met. Iwaizumi listens impassively and nods when he's supposed to, orders a bowl of ramen when a bored looking waiter drifts over to the table. Oikawa doesn't skip a beat and continues whining about grubby little hands messing up his displays and throwing the gift shop into disarray.  
  
"-and the teacher just ignored it all! Kept flirting- and _drinking_ if her breath was anything to go by- and let those little _monsters_ tear everything up. I thought Keiji was going to have a stroke."  
  
It's a surprise that Akaashi didn't have one, actually. For someone usually so calm and not easily ruffled, his tolerance for destructive children is close to nil.  
  
Oikawa lets out a final huff and pouts, brightens again when Suga leans over with a coo and gives him a kiss on the cheek.  
  
"Poor baby," Suga purrs, nuzzling against him ever so slightly. Iwaizumi has to take a drink to keep from glowering at the affection. "Such a long day for you."  
  
"You two are disgusting," Iwaizumi tells them. "I'm not going to want to eat when the food gets here."  
  
Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him in response and leans his head against Suga's. "Don't be jealous, Iwa-chan."  
  
"Yeah. Just because _you_ don't have anyone to be sickeningly cute with doesn't mean you can deprive us of our _love_ ," Suga teases with a crooked little grin.  
  
Iwaizumi scowls and they both smirk. Brats. They're supposed to be comforting him, not poking fun at him for being single. Again.  
  
"You know, here I was looking forward to spending time with you two," Iwaizumi says, a sigh threading through the words, "and you're already making me regret agreeing to come out. It's been, what? Ten minutes?"  
  
They just smile, pleased with themselves. Iwaizumi takes a deep breath and grabs another cigarette, ignores the nagging thought that he shouldn't chain smoke, that he should quit.  
  
"Hajime," Suga says innocently, big copper eyes glinting with some sort of intent that makes Iwaizumi frown at him warily, "does our happiness bother you?"  
  
"Do you want us to be grumpy and desolate like you?" Oikawa adds, almost chirping the question out. Iwaizumi narrows his eyes and lights his cigarette. "If you just dated someone _good_ for you, then maybe you could be happy too."  
  
Iwaizumi barks out a laugh and points to the pair, cigarette resting between his fingers. " _You_ don't get to tell me that. Not after Futakuchi. Not after Kageyama. Not after fucking _Tendou_."  
  
Oikawa has the courtesy to blush ever so lightly and Suga's lips twitch, just a bit, at the reminder of their respective exes.  
  
" _Still_ ," Suga pushes on, the word nearly sharp, "we do want you happy. We want you to be with someone that will make you happy."  
  
The words are genuine, sincere. Iwaizumi still scoffs at them like some teen being lectured by his parents.  
  
"And we have someone who we think could make you just simply _joyous_ ," Oikawa continues on, voice coaxing. "She's such a sweet, good-"  
  
Iwaizumi stabs his cigarette out on the ashtray and sets them both with a stern look.  
  
"You're not setting me up with someone," he tells the pair firmly. "It's not happening."  
  
Suga opens his mouth to protest but the waiter drops off their food and Iwaizumi impales a chopstick into the ramen egg, fixes them with stern look that quite clearly shows that the discussion is over with. The move makes Oikawa and Suga huff, but they obediently propel the conversation to less testy grounds.  
  
Later that night, when Iwaizumi takes a break from pouring over his case to crack open a beer and rest his aching eyes, he briefly wonders if he should let the two set him up. He's certainly had no luck with it- maybe Oikawa and Suga could actually hook him up with someone decent.  
  
The thought is quickly stomped down with a tired, almost amused snort and he ends up walking back to his study to work, alone and exhausted.

* * *

"And, so, Suga-chan had to borrow my car," Oikawa informs him, voice starting to tilt into a wheedling tone. Iwaizumi closes his eyes, already knowing what Oikawa is going to ask. "And I need to go to the library and run a few errands, so could you please, please play chauffeur for me today?"  
  
Iwaizumi doesn't even try to hide his groan.  
  
"Oikawa, it's my day off," Iwaizumi tells him, voice horrifically close to becoming whiny. He groans again, almost slumps to rest his head on his free arm. "I haven't had a real day off in weeks. You _know_ that."  
  
"I do," Oikawa says quickly, pleadingly. "But I really do need to run errands and we could spend some time together, just you and me. It's been _ages_ , Hajime. I'll buy you lunch from wherever you want. Come on, pleeeaaaassseeee?"  
  
There's just a touch of desperation in Oikawa's words and it's enough to make Iwaizumi's will weaken. Another "please, please,  _please_ Hajime" and Iwaizumi groans, drops his head to the table and huffs.  
  
"Give me an hour," he grumbles.  
  
There's a loud shout of appreciation and Iwaizumi hangs up the phone before Oikawa can properly thank him, huffs to himself and reaches for his coffee mug.  
  
Oikawa better be ready to treat him to one hell of a lunch.

* * *

Iwaizumi gets to Oikawa's apartment about an hour and a half later. Oikawa looks ready to whine at him for being late, but bites his tongue at the warning look Iwaizumi sends his way, smiles and too sweetly thanks him instead.  
  
"So what do you have to do?" Iwaizumi asks, tired and maybe just a bit sullen.  
  
"Um...I need to go to the library," Oikawa tells him, patting at the messenger bag he has slung over his shoulder. "And the post office, the rental office, work, and the dry cleaners."  
  
Great. Iwaizumi will be playing driving Oikawa around _all_ day.  
  
"Lunch _and_ coffee," Iwaizumi says with a huff, waiting for Oikawa to climb into the car. "You're getting me both."  
  
Oikawa hums but nods, slides his messenger bag off his shoulder and plops it into the backseat before crawling into the passenger side of the car.  
  
"Fine," Oikawa agrees. "You wanna go to Watari's first then? We can hit the library after since it's close by."  
  
Iwaizumi grunts an affirmative and Oikawa smiles a little, secures his seatbelt and pulls out his phone. He doesn't fiddle with the radio or launch into any complaints once Iwaizumi starts driving and Iwaizumi is thankful for that.  
  
The brat is behaving. It's a rare treat.  
  
"Suga-chan said to thank you for driving me around," Oikawa says distractedly, thumb moving quickly over his phone's screen. "And that he'll make you pastelitos de guayaba as thanks for it, too."  
  
Iwaizumi raises his brow at that. They're both being a bit too grateful for this. It's somewhat suspicious, makes him think that they’re plotting something. He _does_ want pastelitos de guayaba, though- he hasn’t had it in ages; not since he last visited his mom- so he's not about to risk it by questioning them.  
  
"Tell him I said thank you," Iwaizumi orders, scowling when the light turns red and he's forced to sit and wait to continue their journey. "Why do you even need to go to the library, though? Weren't you there just yesterday?"  
  
"I forgot to bring my books with me to return," Oikawa informs him, something almost like a pout in the words. "And I couldn't check out the ones I wanted so I need to go back."  
  
"Why don't you just read them online? Get, like, an e-reader or something?" Iwaizumi asks. "Then you wouldn't have to go to the library so often."  
  
"Hey, I _like_ going to the library," Oikawa tells him with an almost indignant huff. "It's quiet and relaxing. And, besides, it's not the same. There's something comforting about holding a book that a cold, heartless kindle can't replicate."  
  
Iwaizumi snorts his amusement, smiles a little and taps his fingers over the steering wheel. "You do realize that books don't have hearts either, right?"  
  
Oikawa gasps as if scandalized by the statement and they bicker without real heat over the pros and cons of books versus e-readers until they reach the cafe. Iwaizumi playfully threatens to get Oikawa a kindle for his birthday and Oikawa puffs up with a “Don’t you dare, Iwa-chan!” that sends a grin curling up on his face.  
  
So, maybe it’s not so bad spending his day off with his best friend. Sure he could be napping, but...this is nice too.  
  
They spend a lazy half hour or so sipping on coffee and munching on pastries, talking about this and that until the quiet cafe starts getting a bit more full. They leave without a word once one of Iwaizumi’s coworkers ambles in, sneaking out quietly like thieves in the night.  
  
It’s not that Iwaizumi doesn’t want to talk to Konoha, really. It’s just that he would rather not be reminded of work or get pulled into discussion about cases on his day off.  
  
Though, he does wonder if the man could give him some useful input on the whole macaw debacle…  
  
Oikawa shoves Iwaizumi toward the car and jolts his mind from work before he can get too deeply sucked into it.  
  
He’ll just have to ask Konoha tomorrow, he thinks as he buckles himself into the driver’s seat.  
  
This time when Oikawa slides into the car, his hand reaches for the radio and he fiddles with it until Iwaizumi scowls.  
  
“We’re only, what? Five minutes from the library?” Iwaizumi asks, prickly and annoyed as he pulls out of the cafe’s parking lot and onto the road. “Knock it off.”  
  
Oikawa whines and it’s grating, awful. But then he crosses his arms over his chest and huffs, stops messing with the radio. The station that’s been left on plays something light, acoustic. It’s some sort of indie bullshit that makes Iwaizumi fingers itch to grab his guitar.  
  
He can’t remember the last time he played his guitar. Hell, he can’t remember if he even has it still. Iwaizumi _thinks_ it’s in the storage closet, but he _might_ have sold it at his garage sale last year.  
  
Iwaizumi frowns at the thought and tries to shake the weird sort of tired disappointment and quiet regret that settles onto him like a worn blanket.  
  
It’s not like he really has the time to play it anyway.  
  
The ride to the library is quiet right up until Iwaizumi parks the car and pulls out his phone, intent on browsing idly while Oikawa goes off to do what he needs to do.  
  
“You’re not coming in?” Oikawa asks, lips already pushed into a pout. Iwaizumi looks at him blankly and then moves his attention back to his phone, opens his email. “Iwa-chan, come on! You can’t sit out in your car like a weirdo!”  
  
“There’s absolutely no reason for me to go in,” Iwaizumi tells him flatly, frowning when he sees that he’s got a message from his boss.  
  
“But I might be in there for awhile,” Oikawa protests, voice starting to hold that whiny edge that chips away at Iwaizumi’s willpower. “Are you really going to sit out here like a creep?”  
  
“How is me waiting on you being creepy?” Iwaizumi asks with a sigh.  
  
Oikawa just huffs and grabs onto Iwaizumi’s sleeve, tugs on it like a child pulling at his mother’s skirt.  
  
“Iwa-chaaaaaaaa-”  
  
“ _Alright_ ,” Iwaizumi snaps, jerking his sleeve away. “Fine, I’ll go in.”  
  
Oikawa beams at him, radiant and pleased, and Iwaizumi huffs, turns off his car and gets out of it. Oikawa is right by his side in seemingly an instant, looking way too excited to go into the building.  
  
He’s such a fucking nerd.  
  
“Iwa-chan, you don’t have a library card, right?” Oikawa asks as they start walking through the parking lot and to the building.  
  
“No, I don’t,” Iwaizumi tells him, glancing over and raising a brow.  
  
There’s a bounce in Oikawa’s step, a certain sense of anticipation in the way his fingers play with the strap of his messenger bag. It’s a little odd, but Iwaizumi doesn’t think too much of it, just eyes the building up ahead instead.  
  
He can’t remember the last time he visited a library. It was definitely in university so it’s been _years_ since he last stepped foot in one. And, even then, that had been the one on campus, not this quaint little building with its hydrangea bushes planted out front and chalk covered sidewalk.  
  
It’s just as quaint inside, quiet but not holding that oppressive silence that plagued the university’s library. The noises are just softly muted, words murmured and actions lightly carried out. There’s a mobile hanging from the ceiling, just underneath a sun roof. With the light hitting it, jeweled shadows of red, purple, gold and green fall down to the slightly worn carpet, twinkle against the walls, the bookshelves. It’s pretty, charming. Iwaizumi can see what Oikawa means when he calls the place relaxing.  
  
He turns his attention from the appeal of the place and follows after Oikawa, focuses on him when his best friend ambles toward the front desk confidently, raises a brow when he sees a little frown pop up onto his best friend’s face.  
  
“What are _you_ doing here?” Oikawa asks the man behind the counter with a huff, arms folding across his chest. “Yacchan is supposed to be working today.”  
  
“She is,” the man drawls, looking up from his phone and resting his chin on his palm, tapping his fingers against his jawline. “She’s in a meeting with Ushiwaka so I’m watching the front desk.” His eyes flick over to Iwaizumi and the man tilts his head, eyes him with an appraising little look. “And who’s _this_?”  
  
Oikawa huffs and Iwaizumi almost does the same, frowning underneath the leer of the man’s gaze.  
  
“This is Iwaizumi,” Oikawa grumbles, voice petulant. “Iwaizumi, this is the _worst_ librarian- Kuroo.”  
  
The man- Kuroo- grins, feline and just a bit jeering as he tilts his head a little, purrs out a “Oh, it’s about time we saw your face around here. Oikawa never shuts up about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Iwa- _chan_.”  
  
“Oh no,” Oikawa hisses out before Iwaizumi can say anything. “ _You_ don’t get to call him that.”  
  
Kuroo just grins wider and the two fall into quiet arguing, something about Kuroo being lecherous and Oikawa being a greedy brat. Iwaizumi ignores them and looks around the library a bit more, idly wonders if it’s always so empty or if they walked in during a lull. His gaze travels over the rows of bookshelves, a corner clearly dedicated to children, and then lights upon two figures standing in front of what Iwaizumi assumes is a conference room. He pauses his curious study of the place and blinks, almost tilts his head to the side.  
  
One is tall, one is small. A man, a woman. The pair of them are chatting in quiet voices that don’t reach Iwaizumi’s side of the library, matching frowns on their faces. Iwaizumi doesn’t bother to study the man- he’s all too familiar with Ushijima- but his eyes trace over the woman, takes her in.  
  
She’s a tiny little thing, absolutely miniscule. Next to Ushijima she looks smaller than she is, even more petite compared to that giant oaf. She has to tilt her head back to look up at him and that’s overwhelmingly amusing, makes a smile quirk up on Iwaizumi’s face.  
  
It freezes when she turns around and Iwaizumi gets a real look at her.  
  
She’s so fucking _cute_.  
  
Iwaizumi blinks and then turns away, feels his face flush in embarrassment and light shame. He feels like a kid that just caught a look at the new girl in school. Which is _ridiculous_. He’s well past that, well into his thirties and far from the age where being flustered when he spots someone cute without warning is acceptable.  
  
She’s _really_ cute, though.  
  
Iwaizumi pulls out his phone for a distraction and bows his head, ends up flicking his gaze up through his lashes to study her.  
  
Cute might be too mild of a word for her. Adorable? Precious? She’s like a doll with her big, doe eyes and delicate features, softly curling hair and slim hips. When Ushijima steps next to her side, she tilts her head up and smiles so sweetly that it could put any of Suga’s legendary grins to shame. Iwaizumi _thinks_ he can spot a dimple, but she’s too far away for him to tell and decides it might just be a mirage, his mind wanting to amplify her in itself.  
  
He finds himself wondering why he’s never come to the library before this day.  
  
It only clicks who she must be when Oikawa lets out a delighted noise beside him, his squabbling cut off abruptly.  
  
There’s a quiet and yet still too loud call of a name, an affirmation trilled out.  
  
“Yacchan!”  
  
Yacchan, Yachi. Oikawa’s favorite librarian, the one Iwaizumi has heard his best friend coo over so many times before.  
  
_“She’s so tiny and cute and so, so shy! It’s so easy to make her blush, Iwa-chan and she looks so adorable when she does!”_  
  
Iwaizumi bites his lip at the memory of the crowed words, the way her shoulders jump in surprise and her already large eyes widen. A moment of clarity seems to cross over her and then she smiles again, sweet and polite even if her head cants to the side and she looks over at Iwaizumi curiously.  
  
Iwaizumi drops his gaze back to his phone and aimlessly taps at it, scolds himself for being rude and for having to swallow under her inquisitive gaze.  
  
Idiot. He’s being so embarrassing, acting like he’s sixteen and awkward again.  
  
He takes a breath and mentally shakes himself, slides his phone into his back pocket and turns to look at Oikawa and Kuroo.  
  
“You can go now,” Oikawa tells Kuroo snottily. “The _good_ librarian is back.”  
  
“I am an _excellent_ librarian,” Kuroo tells him, voice lazy as he straightens from where he’s been leaned against the counter, stretches. “Just because I don’t blush at every single smile you throw my way-”  
  
“I have literally never- and _will never-_ smiled at you,” Oikawa interrupts with a huff.  
  
Kuroo just grins and winks at Iwaizumi, laughs when Oikawa puffs up and walks away with something like a swagger in his walk. Iwaizumi tries to remember if he’s heard Oikawa whine about the man before, gets distracted when Oikawa begins rifling around his bag and pulls books out to push through the return slot.  
  
“How the hell did you find the time to read so many?” Iwaizumi asks incredulously, distracted as Oikawa gently shoves a fifth book through the slot.  
  
“They’re not all mine,” Oikawa tells him, a silent ‘duh’ tacked onto the end of the sentence. “One of these is Keiji’s and a few are Suga-chan’s.”  
  
“Why do you have one of Akaashi’s books?” Iwaizumi asks with a raised brow.  
  
“I accidentally took it from work,” Oikawa explains, the edges of his words just a bit sheepish. “He asked me to return it for him when he found out.”  
  
Iwaizumi snorts a little and opens his mouth to tease his best friend, but then there’s the soft, muffled little click click click of heels on carpet and he glances up to find the tiny woman- Yachi- behind the front desk, an almost nervous smile on her lips.  
  
She’s even more cute up close and Iwaizumi swallows, bites his inner cheek to keep from biting his bottom lip when he spots the anxious way her eyes dart to him and then flit away, the pale, pale pink that colors her cheeks.  
  
Shy. Oikawa called her shy, told Iwaizumi she’s adorable when she blushes.  
  
She really is.  
  
Iwaizumi kicks himself mentally and licks his lips, glances over to Oikawa when the man lets out a happy little coo that’s much too loud for the quiet library.  
  
“Yacchan, where were you?” he asks her, voice teasing and whining and tangled up in a pout. “I had to talk to that _awful_ alleycat.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Oikawa-san,” she apologizes sincerely and, oh god, her voice is cute too. Soft and light, charmingly demure and sweet. “I was in a meeting with Ushijima-san.”  
  
Oikawa huffs his disapproval but then coos again, leans against the counter and smiles at her. “But you’re here _now_.”  
  
The way that he purrs that last word makes the little librarian flush scarlet and Iwaizumi blinks hard, chews on his tongue to keep from laughing because _shit_ that’s adorable. He hasn’t seen someone get so flustered by Oikawa since university. It almost makes him feel a bit nostalgic, in a way.  
  
“I, um, I- yes-yes,” Yachi squeaks out, cheeks carmine and voice pitched high. Iwaizumi can’t help the quiet laugh that leaves him and she flushes darker, flicks her eyes to him and then toward Oikawa. “I- did- did you need help with something, Oikawa-san?”  
  
“Oh, _I_ don’t, Yacchan,” Oikawa nearly drawls. His hands latch onto Iwaizumi suddenly, pull him closer to the counter before Iwaizumi can protest. “But my _dear_ friend Hajime does. Would you mind hooking him up with a library card while I get a few things?”  
  
Iwaizumi’s jaw drops at the blatant lie and he turns his head to scowl at Oikawa, the falsely innocent smile on his face.  
  
“What the hell, Shi-”  
  
“Take good care of Iwaizumi, Yacchan!”  
  
And before he can grab onto him, the brat waltzes away with a pleased smirk, his head held high and not one look thrown back as he practically sashays across the library and safely out of reach. Iwaizumi scowls at Oikawa’s back and then forces it away, turns toward Yachi with a hesitant smile.  
  
“Sorry, I, um, don’t really-”  
  
She’s gone.  
  
Iwaizumi blinks in confusion and looks around, almost jumps in surprise when she pops up from behind the counter, cheeks still flushed and papers in her hand. She’s so short that the counter covers most of her body, only displays her chest up. And even then most of it is covered by the smooth wood, her breasts halved by it. She’s so _tiny_ , even with those little kitten heels she’s wearing. It makes Iwaizumi wonder if there’s a stool behind there for her to stand on.  
  
He’s so distracted (and amused) by the thought that he forgets to protest when she places the papers on the counter and nudges them toward him, places a pen on top.  
  
“Um- Um, the card is free for residents of the county,” Yachi informs him, the barest squeak in her voice. “All you need to do is fill this out and then show me your driver’s license and then I can make you one.”  
  
Iwaizumi eyes her and thinks to deny it- really, when is he ever going to find the time or the interest to come back- but sighs instead, gives in to the almost earnest look on that sweet face.  
  
Well, it _is_ free.  
  
Iwaizumi nods and slides the form to him, begins filling it out quietly. There’s silence between them and Yachi’s hovering a little; he can feels her eyes tracing over him, watching as he scritches out his information on the paper. He wonders why she’s looking him over, frowns a little to himself and thinks maybe he spilled some coffee on his shirt without realizing.  
  
“Um- Um, sor-sorry if this is rude,” Yachi says softly, suddenly. Iwaizumi flicks his gaze up and scarlet flares on her cheeks, ivory sinks into the plush pink of her bottom lip. “I-I was just, um, curious if you are the, um, Iwa-chan that Oikawa-san always talks about?”  
  
He nearly sighs but nods instead, tries to smile at her in a friendly manner. “Yeah. I prefer Iwaizumi, though.”  
  
Her eyes widen and she looks nearly scared for a moment, terrified that she’s what, offended him? His own eyes widen because, shit, he didn’t mean to make her nervous but then she launches into a ramble and his guilt gets tamped down underneath amusement.  
  
“I-I am so sorry!” Yachi apologizes, words pitched high and almost distraught. “I-It’s just that Oikawa-san only calls you Iwa-chan and he said you were a dear friend and then he called you Iwaizumi and I thought maybe you were the person he always talks about b-but I didn’t know if it was right and I-”  
  
“Yachi-san,” Iwaizumi interrupts, blinking at her and trying not to show his amusement. “It’s fine. Really.”  
  
She nibbles her bottom lip, anxiety in her eyes and teeth tugging as if trying to hold back a protest. There’s a breath and then a nod, her lip being set free and her brow furrowed even with the nervous, small smile she sends his way.  
  
“O-Okay,” Yachi nearly whispers. A tiny hand reaches up to toy with one of her loose curls and she clears her throat, composes herself but keeps the crimson staining her cheeks. “Um, so- so...you can have ten books checked out at a time as an adult and can keep them for up to four weeks. We also have dvds and games for you to check out, too. Those can be kept for two weeks and one week respectively.”  
  
Her voice gets more confident the more she explains what having the library card will allow and Iwaizumi nods along, furtively traces his gaze over her slowly cooling cheeks and the way her mouth forms the words.  
  
He wonders how long she’s been a librarian, can see why Oikawa is fond of her.  
  
When he slides the form and his id over to her, she looks over the both of them quickly, hands back his driver’s license and tucks a lock of her behind her ear, tilts her head and smiles so warmly at him that Iwaizumi feels an actual pang right in his chest, deep and sharp but somehow not painful.  
  
She _does_ have dimples. For some reason that seems a little unfair.  
  
“I just need to make your card now,” Yachi tells him, smiling and cheery, focused on her job. “If you’d like, you can look around the library while you wait.”  
  
Iwaizumi nods and thanks her, steps away from the desk feeling a little strange, his throat a bit dry and an uncertain smile on his face. He goes to find Oikawa and, of course, locates him in the science fiction section eyeing cracked spines with a serious look on his face. As soon as Iwaizumi steps down the aisle, Oikawa’s eyes flick to him and then a sickeningly sweet smile curls onto his face, his lashes bat in an exaggerated manner.  
  
“So, how did it go?” Oikawa asks with a coo.  
  
“I didn’t need a library card,” Iwaizumi grumbles, ignoring the question and eyeing the large stack of books in Oikawa’s arms. “Any reason you pulled that little stunt?”  
  
Oikawa just smiles, coyly and infuriatingly.  
  
“ _Everyone_ needs a library card, Iwa-chan,” the little brat says primly.  
  
Iwaizumi raises a brow but Oikawa just stays smiling, the edges of it threatening to curl into a smirk. There’s no getting a real answer out of him and Iwaizumi takes a breath, resigns himself to never knowing why his best friend is the way he is.  
  
He follows Oikawa around the library almost like a puppy, idly browses but doesn’t find anything to peak his interest. He feels a little awkward at the thought of going to get the card without a book, though, and swipes something at random in the gardening section to bring up with him.  
  
When they go to the front desk, Yachi smiles at them both. Iwaizumi lets Oikawa check out first and listens as he teases and flirts with Yachi, makes her blush and duck her head, a pleased and shy expression on her face.  
  
Oikawa calls her “little birdy” and then backs away with his books in his arms, lets Iwaizumi take his place in front of the desk. Yachi takes the book from him almost gingerly, bites her lip and looks at him through lowered lashes before scanning it and then a small, shiny card. When she hands the book and the card to him, their fingers brush and her face erupts in a riot of scarlets and pinks.  
  
“Hav-Have a nice day,” she squeaks, mumbles. For a moment Iwaizumi thinks that’s all she’ll say, but then she peeks her eyes up at him, offers a smile tinged with embarrassment and nervousness. “We hope to see you again soon!”  
  
The words are rushed and more than likely the standard goodbye she’s supposed to rattle off to everyone, but Iwaizumi finds a strange sort of satisfaction rippling through him, an interest in the way she stumbles over the words and dips her eyes down.  
  
He nods and says his own polite goodbye, follows a smirking Oikawa out the building.  
  
Maybe he will come back soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi and hello on [my tumblr](https://moramew.tumblr.com/)~


	2. All great and precious things are lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why is it so hard for her when it’s so easy for everyone else?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmmm back at it again with the shameless self-indulgence. Watch out for the fluctuating tags- if I'm gonna wallow in rare pair depravity, I'm gonna fully let my greedy desires run free

“No, mother, I’m still not seeing anyone.”  
  
There’s a sigh on the other end of the line, heavy and disappointed. Yachi bites her lip and curls over her coffee mug a bit, tries not to get upset that she’s let her mother down.  
  
Again.  
  
“Well, why not?” her mother asks, voice impatient. “I’m not getting any younger, Hitoka. I want grandkids.”  
  
Yachi winces and squeezes her eyes shut, bites her lip a little harder.  
  
Her mother barrels on with a, “Well, I suppose I can wait a little longer. But you’re not getting any younger either, sweetheart. I know you could nab someone if you stopped being so damn shy about it. _Honestly_ , I don’t where you got that from.”  
  
Her old therapist told her it was from her mother’s neglect and pushing her to strive to perfection.  
  
Yachi doesn’t tell her mother that.  
  
“You just need to get yourself out there,” her mother pushes, voice firm and sure. “Put some effort into it. Maybe if you did something with yourself- dressed up a little, I don’t know- you could find someone.”  
  
Yachi lets her bottom lip go and opens her mouth to try to defend herself but gets cut off when her mother huffs, snaps something in French to her assistant.  
  
“Ugh, this idiot. I have to go, sweetheart,” her mother tells her, distracted and annoyed. “I’ll talk to you later.”  
  
“Oh- Oh,” Yachi whispers, disappointed even if her feelings were getting hurt. She swallows a sigh and opens her eyes, stares down at the traces of cream resting in the bottom of her coffee mug. “Bye, then. Good luck with work.”  
  
Her mother gives a distracted goodbye and then hangs up, leaves Yachi with a quiet aching in her chest. It’s still so early in the morning for her, so late at night for her mother. In the near silence of her apartment, there’s a heavy loneliness that wraps itself around Yachi, leaves her clutching her phone too tightly as she tries not to let it overwhelm her.  
  
The morning is not off to a good start.  
  
Yachi takes a shaky breath and forces herself to stand, walks herself over to her work area and flicks on her laptop, watches it power up with eyes that are stinging, pricked by little tears she refuses to let fall. When she is able, she pulls up her music, gets it going and turns it up enough that the sound wedges itself between her and her loneliness, offers some protection to her sensitive heart.  
  
It takes a moment or two or three for her eyes to dry, but then she’s alright, small and upset but able to push herself into her morning routine without wallowing in self-pity.  
  
A small breakfast and more coffee, a shower. Once her hair is free from knots and lotion is slathered over her carefully, it’s time to move onto pulling on her clothes and applying her makeup. Makeup comes first and she leans over her bathroom counter to get closer to the mirror, apply mascara with a careful hand.  
  
Yachi pauses before she does, though, and lowers the wand, studies herself in the reflection, frowns a bit.  
  
A pale, heart shaped face. A tiny little button nose and tired eyes. Fading, barely there freckles resting on the bridge of her nose, tapering toward her cheeks. There’s a dot of acne by her hairline right next to her temple and a scar under her chin from where she tripped and fell her freshmen year of highschool. Her eyebrows are a bit too thin from over plucking, her lips a bit too chapped and ragged from nervous nibbling.  
  
It’s not a bad face. Not a great face, not a terrible face. Average. Plain. Could be better, could be worse. There’s still a touch of youthfulness to it, traces of a babyface she just can’t seem to grow out of even as she creeps toward her thirties. She’s never looked her age before and wonders if she ever will.  
  
_“Maybe if you did something with yourself- dressed up a little, I don’t know- you could find someone.”_  
  
Yachi frowns and touches at her cheek, traces her fingers down to her jawline.  
  
She’s tried to do things with herself before. She’s grown her hair out, styles it pretty these days. She started wearing makeup in college, finally taught herself about foundation and mascara but shied away from blush and eyeliner, lipstick. Mika tells her she doesn’t need it anyway- “You’re a classic, natural beauty”- and she always feels silly when she tries- like a child getting into her mother’s vanity. But maybe…  
  
Yachi sighs quietly and takes a step from the counter, crouches down to pull out the little box filled with makeup she’s splurged on but rarely uses out from under the sink. She hesitates before opening it and bites her lip when she eyes the small collection.  
  
Well...it couldn’t hurt to try.

* * *

  
“Oh ho, looking good today, Yacchan.”  
  
Yachi blinks and blushes, lifts her head from her phone and tries not to curl into herself when she sees the grin on Kuroo’s face, the raise of his brow.  
  
Is he making fun of her?  
  
She clutches her phone tightly with one hand and tugs at a curl with the other as she drops her head self-consciously.  
  
She had left her little flat before her uncertain determination had bled out, fled before she could talk herself out of the makeup, the pumps and stockings and dress that hugs her a bit more closely than what she normally wears. Kuroo is the first person she’s really encountered today and already she’s wanting to run to the bathroom, wash her face off and stumble to her car to get the kitten heels she usually wears.  
  
Hot, embarrassed tears prick at her and she swallows, feels some quiet shame run through her.  
  
She must look ridiculous. Why did she try?  
  
“Yachi-san.”  
  
Yachi’s shoulders jump at the sound of her employer’s voice and she quickly blinks, tries to rid her eyes of their wetness. Once she’s certain she won’t look too pathetic, she peeks her gaze up and takes a deep breath when her eyes meet Ushijima’s. He tilts his head to the side, face blank as he studies her, and then offers her a brief, rare smile.  
  
“You do look exceptionally nice today,” he tells her.  
  
Yachi’s eyes widen and then relief washes over her in a thick wave at the words, her whole body relaxing so much she’s afraid she might melt into a puddle.  
  
She can trust Ushijima’s words. The library director may be dry and intimidating but he is truthful, blunt with his compliments and his criticism. He means what he says- he truly thinks she looks nice.  
  
Yachi smiles a tiny bit, nearly shy and wavering before she whispers out a quiet, “Thank you.”  
  
Ushijima just nods and looks down at the tablet in his hand before frowning ever so slightly.  
  
“Yamaguchi-san has sent an email informing me that he will be delayed a day late in coming home from his trip,” he says, looking up from the tablet. “Would you be able to come in on Friday to cover his shift, Yachi-san?”  
  
Yachi nods and Ushijima does as well, another brief smile given to her before he turns and leaves the break room. There is no “thank you” given but she’s worked long enough with him to know that the gesture of a smile means that he is grateful, that he will repay her in some quiet way for it.  
  
“You could have said no,” Kuroo pipes up, leaning against the counter with a coffee mug in hand. “What, you don’t have any plans?”  
  
Yachi shakes her head, some tiny bitterness poking at her, and Kuroo raises a brow, shrugs.  
  
“You should get out more,” he tells her, tone almost creeping toward lecturing. “Live a little.”  
  
Her brow furrows but he leaves before she can say anything in response, waltzing out of the break room to start getting the library ready to open. Yachi follows after him and begins to ready her side of the library, tries not to feel too frustrated by the words.  
  
She lives. She has a life. A quiet one, yes. But it’s not like that’s a bad thing. She’s alright with her cozy, unplanned nights at home, the occasional get together with friends. It’s not like she’s a hermit. She _does_ do things.  
  
_“You just need to get yourself out there.”_  
  
Yachi flicks her duster a bit too hard and accidentally topples over the pen holder, sighs to herself and kneels to begin gathering them up.  
  
How does one get themselves out there? Live life and makes plans that they can’t turn down for work?  
  
Yachi sighs to herself, again, and clutches the pens in her hand, picks herself up off the floor.  
  
Why is it so hard for her when it’s so easy for everyone else?

* * *

  
Once all the computers are turned on, the shelves dusted and everything carefully straightened and organized, it’s time for the morning meeting. Mika comes bustling in at the last second, her coat hanging off her shoulder and a faint hickey peeking out of the collar of her blouse. She fixes it when she notices Kuroo’s leer, laughs and makes up for being late by handing out muffins to everyone.  
  
Even Ushijima is weak to the white chocolate orange and cranberry muffins she brings. He doesn’t scold her beyond more than a pointed look and unwraps the morning treat, begins the meeting by reminding them all of the upcoming movie night.  
  
Which is Friday night. Yachi could hit herself for forgetting that.  
  
It’s not that she doesn’t like movie night. It’s just that it’s so, so _busy_ and there are so many people in the library at once and there’s so much to do to make sure it runs well. There’s the children’s movie at first and then the adult’s- nothing lewd or violent but something a bit more mature for everyone to enjoy. It’s so much work and such a late night and she can’t _believe_ that she forgot about it.  
  
“I’ll be working movie night,” Mika pipes up, looking over her tablet and absently tucking her hair behind her ear. “And so will...oh, Yachi!”  
  
Mika raises her head up and beams Yachi’s way, helps ease some of the fretting that’s running through her mind. It will be more enjoyable with her friend involved, certainly.  
  
“We’ll be showing Coraline for the children,” Ushijima announces almost absentmindedly. “And...Pet? for the adults.”  
  
A shadow of a frown crosses over Ushijima’s face and he looks up and over at Mika. She shrugs and frowns herself, taps along the screen of her tablet.  
  
“It’s what I pulled out of the suggestion box,” Mika tells him. “I’ve never seen it before. But I can watch it tonight to see if it’s appropriate?”  
  
“Please do,” Ushijima says, near dryly. “If it is inappropriate, select another movie.”  
  
Mika nods and flicks her gaze over to Yachi, raises a brow. It’s an invitation, clearly enough, and Yachi smiles a little nervously, gives a tiny nod.  
  
She’s not thrilled that this movie night is the start of their October showings and the movies for this month will be tinted in horror and frightening thrills.  
  
Yachi pushes that away, though, with a quiet, deep breath and focuses on the rest of the meeting. Once the duties for the day are doled out, they’re free to leave and begin their day. Mika, though, tugs Yachi to her office with a smile before she can go to the backroom to begin laminating covers, closes the door behind them and grins.  
  
“What’s with you?” Mika asks, voice almost excited. “You look so good today! Not that you ever look _bad_ but you look _extra_ pretty today. Did something happen? Do you have a date? A crush?” Mika gasps and claps her hands together before Yachi can say anything, leans closer to her with widened eyes. “Did Kuroo ask you out?”  
  
A squeak slips from Yachi before she can help it and she shakes her head almost frantically, denies it before Mika can carry on with the thought.  
  
“No-No,” Yachi splutters out. “I just- I just wanted to look nice today.”  
  
The words dip into a whisper toward the end and she flushes, ducks her head in embarrassment. Mika hums as if disappointed and then claps her hands again, smiles when Yachi chances a glance toward her.  
  
“Well, you look _lovely_ today,” Mika tells her firmly. “It’s good that you want to look nice for yourself.” Her smiles widens into a grin and Mika grabs Yachi’s hands, squeezes them tight. “So, come over tonight to watch the movie?”  
  
Yachi nods but she must look nervous because Mika laughs- not unkindly- and squeezes her hands again, smooths her thumb across her knuckles.  
  
“If it’s too scary, we can switch to something else,” Mika promises. “You’re a good test subject to see if it’s appropriate or not.”  
  
Yachi huffs a little and Mika laughs, drops Yachi’s hands and grins.  
  
“It’ll be fun,” Mika promises her. “We’ll grab some wine and takeout and just kick back and relax.”  
  
Yachi hesitantly nods and offers a smile, gets a pleased little hum in return.  
  
“Right then,” Mika tells her, all curled red lips and bright eyes, “we’ll head to mine after work. Just got to make it until the end of the day.”  
  
Yachi nods and then she leaves so Mika can do her work, leaves so she can do her own.  
  
It’s an easy, nearly idle morning for her. She gets to laminate book covers, decorate the bulletin board for the upcoming month. Yachi loses herself in cutting out pumpkins and witch hats, full moons and ghosts. She’s happy that they’re indulging in something a bit fun this year, that they’re celebrating the month American style. Yes, the horror bits _do_ make her squirm but there’s something a bit fun about jack o'lanterns and cartoon skulls, the cinnamon of the air freshners they put out, the cheery orange threaded through midnight black.  
  
If she didn’t have to deal with the more frightful things as well, it would be close to perfect.  
  
After lunch, she switches to the front desk after Kuroo’s coaxing, lets him handle the shelving so he can stretch his legs. Ennoshita is supposed to be there to help them for the day, but he called in pleading a stomach bug. She hopes he gets better soon, hopes that he won’t infect the rest of them.  
  
Yachi wrinkles her nose at the thought and busies herself with checking in the books that have been pushed through the return slot. That’s easily and quickly done, though, and she finds herself tapping her fingers against the counter, rocking back and forth on her (slowly growing more uncomfortable) heels as she thinks of what else she can do.  
  
It’s almost dreadfully slow that day.  
  
Yachi busies herself with random tasks, ends up switching jobs with Kuroo once, twice, three times. He’s fidgety and bored the whole morning, through the afternoon as well and only perks up when Mika sends him out for coffee for everyone so he’ll stop sighing. He doesn’t come back for almost an hour and, of course, it’s during that one time the library is actually busy. He makes it up to Yachi by handing her her favorite coffee from Peepers, a brown paper bag with her name scrawled onto it. There are eclairs in it when she peeks in, chouquettes and a palmier.  
  
She forgives him but still accepts his offer to watch the front desk once more, happily stores away her goodies in the break room and then begins to catch up on the shelving that had fallen to the wayside in wake of the sudden rush.  
  
Yachi takes her time with it and shelves each book with love and care. She may, perhaps, be drawing it out since they are so very close to closing for the day. But she doesn’t think she can be faulted- certainly not after Kuroo’s _long_ excursion to his crush’s cafe.  
  
Yachi huffs out a silent laugh and stops the book cart in front of a row of shelves. Her nose wrinkles when she realizes that she’ll need the step stool and she huffs again- this time with a pout- before going to fetch it.  
  
Why must she be so short?  
  
Yachi fixes the stool and grabs the book she needs to shelf, frowns when she’s still just a bit too short to do so. She refuses to go to Kuroo to ask if he can do it- she was teased for days after the last time- and lifts to her tiptoes instead, gets aggravated when even that’s not enough to get her there.  
  
A huff and determination is what propels her to step onto the shelf just a bit higher than the step stool and Yachi quickly nudges the book to where it needs to be before hurriedly clambering onto the stool before she’s caught being risky.  
  
She, of course, ends up stepping onto it in an odd little move and the stool rocks and she inhales in a sharp gasp as her arms flail and she starts falling backward. Yachi whimpers and tenses, tries to reach to steady herself and clutches at the air, only gets just a moment to brace herself for the pain of impact.  
  
It doesn’t come. She doesn’t hit the floor, she doesn’t bang her head on the book cart behind her. She falls, smacks into something solid and warm and ends up letting out the most embarrassing _yip-_ god, why? _-_ when her foot shoots out, slams into the handle of the step stool. Yachi slumps and then hands are gripping her carefully, a low little “woah there” muttered in her ear.  
  
She feels her soul leave her body and wishes for death then and there to save herself the embarrassment of turning and thanking her (wonderfully smelling, oh goodness that cologne is so distractingly _good._ And _goodness_ he feels so solid and firm against her too- that’s even worse) savior.  
  
Yachi squeezes her eyes shut and feels her cheeks begin to flare as he helps her right herself, stumbles over an apology and forces herself to turn around to thank them.  
  
The urge to flee is so overwhelming that her body actually lurches a little with the pressing need to run when her wide, mortified eyes meet his, when she realizes who it is.  
  
She’s made a terrible impression _twice_ upon meeting him. It’s so embarrassing.  
  
Yachi feels a tropic heat takes over her face, creep down her neck and explode in unforgiving tendrils throughout her body. Iwaizumi just tilts his head, traces his eyes over her crimson cheeks, the way her lips try to form an apology, a thank you but stumble and stutter over the words.  
  
“Iwa-Iwaizumi-s-san!! I’m _so sorry_. I di-didn’t mean to fall. I should have watched what I was doing. Oh, _god_. Thank-Thank you. Oh, goodness, I- Oh, did I hurt you? I’m _so sorry_ . I-I didn’t mean-”  
  
“You remember my name?”  
  
Yachi blinks at the interruption and her embarrassment momentarily whips into confusion, her mortification into bewilderment.  
  
“I- yes- yes?” she says, uncertain and a little baffled.  
  
Why wouldn’t she remember it? Is she not supposed to? Oh god, does he think she’s weird for remembering his name? It’s been weeks since he first came in. Oh god, that _is_ weird isn’t it? He must think she’s strange or creepy.  
  
Yachi’s eyes widen in panic and she takes a step back from him, clutches the fabric of her dress. She opens her mouth to apologize? Thank him again? Make an excuse to flee? but gets cut off when he smiles faintly, raises a hand to rub the back of his neck.  
  
“Um...you didn’t get hurt, did you?” he asks. Yachi shakes her head, cheeks blaring with heat and his little smile grows. “Good, good. Um...I actually came over here for a book?”  
  
He sounds a little awkward and uncertain, but he doesn’t seem disturbed by her remembering his name and the relief that runs through Yachi is enough to make her want to sigh.  
  
A book. He wants a new book. She can help him with that.  
  
Yachi takes a deep breath and smiles at him, focuses on her job instead of her worries as she smooths her hands over her dress, grabs the step stool to move it out of the way.  
  
“What -What, um...what book are you looking for?” she asks him, wincing internally at how her voice is a little squeaky, too high pitched.  
  
Iwaizumi is quiet for maybe a beat too long and she flexes her fingers at her sides, bites her lip in worry because _oh no_ he might be one of those types that doesn’t want her to hover and help. It’s always so _awkward_ to disengage and walk away without it feeling rude or unprofessional.  
  
Iwaizumi looks to the side and Yachi blinks at the tiny flush of pink to tan cheeks, the way his fingers scratch at his scalp.  
  
“Um...Godzilla,” he mutters. “The novelization of the movie. The catalogue said it was in this section?”  
  
Again, uncertainty in his words. Something almost even like...embarrassment? But why? Because of the book? There’s no reason for him to be flustered by it.  
  
Not that he really _looks_ or _seems_ all the flustered. He’s looking to the side, yes. There’s the faintest smudge of pink over his cheeks, yes. But he’s still fairly composed, casual in his jeans and faded t-shirt, his worn jacket.  
  
Yachi’s eyes trace over the light stubble covering a strong jawline before she remembers herself and she flushes for reasons other than embarrassment this time, hides it by turning and studying the shelves.  
  
“Ah, yes,” she says, forcing the words a bit louder than normal, more certain and far from the lightness they want to take. She eyes the shelves and then goes to her tiptoes, pulls the book from its snug home and then turns to Iwaizumi, keeps her eyes lowered at a point on his chest and holds it out in offering. “Are...are there any other books you’re interested in?”  
  
His hands reach out to accept the book and Yachi’s gaze flicks to them without thought, takes in thick fingers and a few faded scars winding on them, how big his hands look gripping the book and the peek the movement gives to a wrist, the leather encircling it and the face of a watch.  
  
She blinks at the realization of the brand and looks up to him curiously, catches his eyes flicking up from the book to meet hers. She flushes at the eye contact and forgets her curiosity, winces internally at how easily flustered she is.  
  
“No,” Iwaizumi tells her with a small smile. “This is all I want for now.”  
  
Yachi nods and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, runs her fingers to toy with a curl. She opens her mouth to say something- she’s not even sure what, really- and his head tilts, his smile grows a bit more.  
  
She’s kept from speaking when a little call of “Yach- Oh, Iwaizumi-san?” floats down the aisle, when there’s the click of a heel.  
  
Yachi blinks and Iwaizumi blinks and they both turn their heads to find Mika at the end of the row of shelves, a surprised look on her face. Her head cants to the side and her hair follows in a pretty, silk waterfall. Another step and then surprise bursts into something pleased, a slender brow arching as the woman shoots Yachi a little look that makes her flush furiously, smiles and walks to them.  
  
“Ah, Mika-san?”  
  
Yachi blinks and looks over to Iwaizumi, looks back over to Mika.  
  
Do they...know each other?  
  
“I didn’t know you worked here,” Iwaizumi says, voice surprised. “I thought you worked at that art gallery?”  
  
“Oh, no,” Mika informs him with a little shake of her head. “I started here about…oh, it’s been a little over half a year already. God, how time flies.”  
  
Yachi glances to Iwaizumi and catches the sheepish look on his face, how his lips form an apology. Mika laughs not unkindly and tells him it’s fine, takes another step forward and grins.  
  
“Congratulations on winning your case, by the way,” she tells him. “Suguru was impressed.”  
  
Case?  
  
Yachi blinks her confusion, her brow furrowing before clarity runs through her.  
  
Oh, oh that’s _right_. How could she forget all the bragging Oikawa has done? All the proud little “Iwa-chan is working on that case”’s and the crowing of “He’s the best in the business”’s that Oikawa has cooed to her?  
  
“Oh, um, thanks,” Iwaizumi says, his hand going to rub at the back of his neck. There’s a modest little grin on his face, framed by something pleased and threaded through with a hint of pride. “Wish him luck for me with his?”  
  
Mika nods and she looks back over to Yachi, winks at her before tossing her hair back.  
  
“Oh, I better get back to my desk,” she announces. “Yachi-san, when you have the time, come to my office. I want to talk more about movie night.”  
  
Yachi nods and then Mika walks off, leaves Yachi alone with Iwaizumi once again. Yachi flicks her gaze toward him and eyes him through her lashes, tries to picture him in a suit and tie and carrying a briefcase.  
  
Well. At least now she knows why he wears Hermes.  
  
Though...he _is_ wearing the watch with clothes that look like they’re left over from his university days. There’s something amusing about that and Yachi’s lips twitch a little, a soft huff of laughter threatens to come out. She hides it with a clearing of her throat, her hands brushing her hair from her face.  
  
“I...I should finish shelving these,” Yachi says quietly, gesturing vaguely toward the book cart.  
  
Iwaizumi blinks and nods, looking distracted as he does. He seems to hesitate, fingers tapping against the cover of the book, before muttering a “thanks” and then turning and leaving Yachi all by herself.  
  
As soon as he’s safely away and she has privacy, Yachi takes a deep breath and lets it out in one big woosh, shakes her head and runs her hand through her hair. She feels exhausted after that interaction, drained from the embarrassment and confusion and surprise.  
  
She’s ready for wine and takeout with Mika, to take her pumps off and relax.  
  
Well, relax as much as she possibly can with a horror movie in store for her.  
  
Another deep breath and Yachi turns her attention to the book cart, the books waiting to placed among their brethren.  
  
Just a little longer.

* * *

  
“Mika,” Yachi calls softly, poking her head into the library manager’s office. “You wanted me?”  
  
Mika pops her head up from her book almost as soon as Yachi says her name, waves her into the office with a smile and a smirk.  
  
“Yacchan,” she coos. “I didn’t know you knew Iwaizumi-san.”  
  
A blush, surely the hundredth of the day, blossoms across Yachi’s cheeks and she shakes her head quickly, throws her hands up in defense.  
  
“N-No,” Yachi denies, shaking her head harder when Mika raises a brow. “He’s just a patron of the library. I gave him a card a few weeks ago. That- That was only the second time I’ve seen him before!”  
  
Mika’s brow arches higher and she hums, smiles a little bit wider. There’s amusement all over her face, something a bit pleased in the twinkle of her eye.  
  
“I see then,” Mika quite nearly purrs. “I only know him myself in passing because of Suguru. But he’s a lovely man. A bit temperamental at times but, really, absolutely _wonderful_. So handsome, don’t you think?”  
  
There’s no helping the way Yachi’s face just gets absolutely painted over with embarrassed, flustered scarlet. She splutters a bit and ducks her head, almost huffs when Mika lets out a soft laugh.  
  
Iwaizumi is handsome. But she’s not just going to admit that.  
  
“I- I- um,” Yachi squeaks. Mika’s smile threatens to turn into a grin and Yachi _does_ huff this time, pouts faintly and quickly hurries on in an effort to change the conversation. “What- What did you want to talk about regarding movie night?”  
  
Mika hums and eyes her but seems to decide to let Yachi escape possible teasing, smiles and stretches a bit.  
  
“Suguru is getting off work early tonight,” Mika informs her. “Is it okay if he joins us? I can talk him into cooking for us.”  
  
Oh, that’s an enticing thought. Daishou is an _amazing_ cook, has a store of recipes that makes Yachi almost a little envious, a little dizzy. Any other time she would nod her head and say “yes, please” but...but, well, her heart was sort of set on take-out and a lowkey night, relaxing with food that’s maybe not that good for them but terribly tasty and beautifully self-indulgent.  
  
The hesitation must show on her face because Mika hums and smiles a bit softer.  
  
“Or I could have him pick up something from Asahi’s?” Mika suggests instead. “And maybe the wine, too? Just have him as our little errand boy.”  
  
A giggle slips from Yachi before she can really think to hold it back and she nods, smiles.  
  
“Yeah,” she says, some sort of happy tendril snaking through her, “that sounds wonderful.”  
  
Mika claps her hands together and gives a nod, the grin on her face wide and the corner of her eyes crinkling with joy.  
  
“Right then,” Mika announces, standing up from her desk. “I’ll give him a call. Do you just want to meet at Daishou’s after work?”  
  
“Yes, please,” Yachi tells her. “Oh, I do need to run by the bank first, though. Is that alright?”  
  
“Of course it’s alright,” Mika reassures her. “You just come over whenever you’re ready.”  
  
Yachi nods and then leaves to finish up her work, help Kuroo close the library down for the day. There’s a small trace of giddiness that ripples underneath her skin, a little warm spot in her chest at the thought of having plans for the night, the thought of doing something with people and not having to go home all alone.  
  
She _does_ have a life- no matter what anyone else says.

* * *

  
Closing up is a quick job, one that Yachi and Kuroo speed through more quickly than normal. By the way he’s grinning to himself, Yachi thinks he must have plans, too- ones perhaps with the loud, energetic coffee shop owner that her fellow librarian is so obviously into.  
  
They both leave the library with smiles on their faces.  
  
The normally quick trip to the bank is dragged out by traffic being clustered, a problem with the computers once she actually reaches her back and a frazzled teller that seems close to tears. Yachi waits patiently through it all, her smile kept in place by the photo Mika sends her of the _bounty_ of food that Daishou picked up for them.  
  
From Mika: _He got moscato too!_ (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ  
  
Yachi almost gives a pleased laugh at that, but keeps quiet instead when the person ahead of her turns and shoots her a scowl for daring to smile. She ducks her head guilty but keeps her lips curled, her happiness intact.  
  
Bank, a quick stop to get gas, and then Mika’s place.  
  
As always, there’s a trace of envy that flits through Yachi when she pulls into the driveway. Really, it’s Daishou’s place but Yachi can’t help thinking of the house as Mika’s. Her friend has left her mark on the elegant home in so many ways- from the creeping phlox that’s taken over half of the front wall to the rose bushes that line the path to the front door, from the bird feeders hanging from trees to the cheery pumpkin on the doorstep. The formerly stiflingly stern and stately federal colonial home has been softened into something so much more inviting with Mika’s touch, with her care.  
  
Yachi smiles to herself and walks up the path to the front door, knocks and then laughs when it opens almost automatically.  
  
“Yacchan!” Mika cries out, grabbing onto her wrist and tugging her inside. “Come in, come in.”  
  
Mika almost slops moscato out of her glass and Yachi stifles a giggle, steps into the house and lets the door close behind her. She hurries to kick off her shoes and then follows Mika through the house, notes at how it’s just the teeniest, tiniest bit out of order and smiles to herself, feels some light fondness and even a dash of pride run through her.  
  
There are some similarities between her and Daishou and it’s pleasing to see that _his_ rigid sense of perfectionism has relaxed ever so slightly.  
  
Mika is a wonder, truly.  
  
The man himself walks out of the kitchen with his phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, a cigarette and martini glass in one hand and a bottle of Hennessy in the other. His hair is just a bit disheveled, tie loosened and lips twisted impatient as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the line. As soon as Daishou’s eyes land on Yachi, he freezes up. But then he’s moving almost as soon as his body tenses, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly and a brief, charming smile flashing across his face.  
  
If it were three months ago, four or six months prior, Yachi would flush and duck her head, drop her eyes. But she’s used to Daishou now, less vulnerable to a handsome face and patented smiles. And he’s used to her now, less prone to posturing and maintaining his carefully crafted persona.  
  
So she smiles instead and then lets her attention drift to Mika, follows her friend into the living room. The coffee table has a bowl of popcorn on it, all drizzled with caramel and white chocolate. There’s the moscato, too, and a glass for her, a plate full of pastries laid out in the organized arrangement of Italian takeout from Nuova Casa. The pastries remind her of the brown paper bag sitting in the fridge at work and she pouts to herself, kicks herself mentally for forgetting her treats at work.  
  
Ah, well. Breakfast for tomorrow.  
  
“Yacchan, we picked out some more movies to watch,” Mika tells her, sitting on the couch and leaning back in the corner of it with a smile. “I looked up a trailer for Pet earlier and...well, if I’m right, it will _not_ be appropriate for movie night.”  
  
Yachi wrinkles her nose as nervousness whips through her and Mika huffs before smiling wider, reaching a hand up to grab hers and draw her to the couch.  
  
“It’ll be fine, Yacchan,” Mika reassures her. “If you get too scared, you can always hide your face against me.”  
  
That last bit is cooed as a tease and Yachi flushes, huffs to herself as she sits beside her friend, her manager, her occasional cuddle buddy.  
  
It’s an odd sort of relationship to have with her manager, she knows. You’re not supposed to be friends with them and you’re most certainly not supposed to cuddle up with them every so often. But Mika is physically affectionate, dotes on her so very much and has somehow become so very fond of her throughout the months. And Yachi is lonely and in need of skinship, adores her friend and trusts in the warmth that she brings.  
  
It’s alright, it’s fine. And if sometimes there’s the press of lips against temples, foreheads, each other’s mouths...well, that is still platonic. That is still alright. Daishou doesn’t mind, Mika doesn’t mind, Yachi doesn’t mind.  
  
She is so very needy for affection and it’s all so very soft and sweet. It never strays outside of their homes, is kept hidden and tucked away from eyes that would misinterpret- even if it sincerely nothing much.  
  
Yachi takes a breath and huffs again, nudges Mika’s knee with her own before reaching for the wine glass and the bottle of moscato.  
  
“I won’t be able to sleep tonight,” Yachi says, voice as whiny as she’ll allow it.  
  
“You will if you drink and eat enough,” Mika teases, a grin on her lips. “Consider it training for Friday. You’ll be able to hold your composure better in front of all the horror enthusiasts.”  
  
Yachi pouts over at her and Mika laughs, loud and bright and far from unkind.  
  
“You’ll be fine, Yacchan,” Mika promises. Her eyes flick over Yachi’s shoulder and then her grin grows more, a hand reaching out and waving in a beckoning gesture. “Honey, honey. Guess who I saw today?”  
  
“Mmm, that same wretched alley cat as always?” Daishou drawls. He walks over and leans over the back of the couch, presses a kiss to Mika’s lips when she huffs. “Who was it?”  
  
“One Iwaizumi-san,” Mika coos to him, almost purrs.  
  
A brow arches nearly incredulously and Yachi’s cheeks stain with pink. She hurriedly pours herself a drink and takes a quick sip, looks away from the way Mika is grinning at her.  
  
“Iwaizumi-san was there?” Daishou asks, voice musing. “The public library doesn’t really seem a place that suits his tastes.”  
  
“Right? But he _was_ there. And he was talking to our _dear_ little Yacchan,” Mika informs him, the words nearly sang out. “They made _such_ a cute picture when I spotted them.”  
  
“Mika!” Yachi protests. She can feel the pink on her cheeks flush to carmine and grips at the wine glass tighter when Daishou turns his head toward her, tilts it a bit. “He was just getting a book in a section I happened to be shelving!”  
  
His eyes stay disbelieving. Yachi blushes darker under the way his gaze runs over her, analytic and searching. Mika’s own eyes are bright and amused, almost a little smug as she giggles.  
  
“Iwaizumi-san is a good lawyer,” Daishou comments almost absently. There’s a flicker of annoyance that moves across his face, some memory of a case against the man probably running through his mind. “He’s _honorable_ but he’s not stupid enough to let that get in the way of winning.”  
  
Daishou straightens from where he’s leaned over the back of the couch and Yachi watches as he begins to walk toward the kitchen, his lips curling into a faint smirk.  
  
“He’s single, too,” Daishou throws out over his shoulder.  
  
Yachi is sure her face is some yet unnamed shade of red at that. Mika laughs and Yachi sends her the mildest of glares, lips pushed into a pout and brow furrowed.  
  
“We’re just teasing, Yacchan,” Mika tells her, softening and leaning toward her, lips moving to brush against her forehead. “We don’t mean anything by it.”  
  
Yachi eyes her and then gives a nod, a sigh. She leans against Mika and takes a sip of the moscato, closes her eyes when a hand raises to pet at her hair.  
  
“I know you’re teasing,” Yachi says quietly. “It’s just...I’m just a little sensitive today, I guess.”  
  
“Your mother called you this morning, didn’t she?” Mika asks, voice soft as her fingers card through her hair gently. Yachi nods and Mika sighs, lips pressing to the top of her head. “Honestly. Was it the ‘I want grandkids’ talk again?”  
  
Yachi curls up a little in response and Mika huffs, presses a kiss to her once more.  
  
“ _Mothers_ ,” Mika says, the word coming out as a scoff. “You’re fine, Yacchan. You don’t need anyone. There’s no need to rush.”  
  
But...but she _wants_ someone.  
  
Yachi keeps that quiet, though, and hides her desire, just nods against Mika.  
  
They’re supposed to be having a nice night together, something filled with frights and wine. She shouldn’t weigh it down with her lonely wishes, words filled with aching and longing.  
  
“You’re fine,” Mika tells her again, voice firm. “It’ll happen when it happens.”  
  
Yachi bites her lip and nods, suppresses a sigh and pulls back, offers a smile to her friend.  
  
“You’re right,” she says, the words heavy on her lips, sticking to her throat. “I’m fine.”  
  
Mika smiles and it’s pretty and sweet, red lips curling up and dimples flashing. There’s the sound of footsteps and then Daishou is on the couch next to Yachi, his arm thrown over the back and a long leg raised so an ankle rests on the opposite knee.  
  
“So, are we ready to watch this?” he asks.  
  
Mika and Yachi both nod and he does as well, reaches over for the remote and hits the play button. Yachi picks up her wine glass again and one of the take-out boxes, tucks her feet underneath herself and forces her attention away from the cold in her stomach, the wetness that threatens to form in her eyes.  
  
Fine. She’s fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how's mikayachi for a rare pair?  
> it's platonic, though, y'all. idk why but my heart just adores a platonic, physically affectionate mika and yachi friendship  
> and i _know_ that October just slipped by but *shrugs*
> 
> Come say hi and hello on [my tumblr](https://moramew.tumblr.com/)~


	3. "The public library is where place and possibility meet."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I _like_ the library,” Oikawa tells him with just a vague trace of impatience. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Yacchan and Mika-chan are the ones hosting it so the food is going to be extra good. _And_ it’s free.”
> 
> Oikawa tacks the last sentence on like they’re back at university and broke and it makes Iwaizumi grin a little despite himself.
> 
> “I’ll think about it,” he tells him. “No promises. Now get the hell out of my office.”

“Iwa-chan~”  
  
Iwaizumi blinks and jerks his head up from his laptop. A frown crosses his face when he sees Oikawa grinning at him from the doorway and Iwaizumi sighs, readies himself to be kept from his work.  
  
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, slipping his cigarette from his lips.  
  
Oikawa raises up a plastic bag filled with Styrofoam boxes in response and places a hand to his chest.  
  
“Because I’m _such_ a good friend and I know you’ve skipped it, I’ve brought you lunch,” Oikawa informs him, words pleased and nearly cooed.  
  
Iwaizumi frowns a little deeper at Oikawa’s grin, his brow furrowing and light confusion rippling through him.  
  
“I didn’t miss it,” Iwaizumi tells him, annoyed. “It’s not lunchtime yet.”  
  
Oikawa raises a brow and tilts his head, makes Iwaizumi feel uncertain enough that he looks down at his watch.  
  
Three in the afternoon. Oops.  
  
Iwaizumi huffs and raises a hand, waves Oikawa in while he stabs his cigarette out on his ashtray. Oikawa sashays in, closing the door behind him, and makes his way over to Iwaizumi’s desk, plops himself down in one of his chairs like he owns the place.  
  
“You shouldn’t be smoking in your office,” Oikawa chides, pulling the take-out boxes from the bag. “It’s bad decorum for one of the most successful divorce lawyers in the city, you know. You’ll turn off your clients.”  
  
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and pushes his laptop to the side, slides one of the take-out boxes to him and peeks inside of it. Sweet and sour pork.  
  
Excellent.  
  
Iwaizumi grabs one of the sets of chopsticks and takes a bite, savors the taste and feels his hunger hit him at full force.  
  
He really needs to pay better attention to himself; this is the second day this week he’s skipped over lunch on accident.  
  
“ _Honestly_ , Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says with a sigh, shaking his head as he opens another box to reveal some sort of curry. “After all the nagging you’ve done to Kou-chan and I about taking better care of ourselves, you’re being quite hypocritical.”  
  
Iwaizumi scowls through a bite of food and swallows it down, opens his mouth to snap a retort but gets cut off when there’s a knock at his door.  
  
“Iwaizumi-san?”  
  
Oikawa’s fingers twitch around his chopsticks at the sound of Daichi’s voice and Iwaizumi shoots him a look, takes in the way Oikawa’s throat moves in a swallow and has to stuff down his disapproval.  
  
“Come in, Sawamura-san,” Iwaizumi calls out, flicking his gaze away from his best friend and to the door.  
  
The door opens and Daichi walks in, starting to say something but getting distracted when Oikawa leans back in his chair and rolls his head to look at him, smiles a little too coyly.  
  
“Oh...Oikawa-san,” Daichi says, surprised and maybe a touch pleased. His gaze returns to Iwaizumi, but flickers to Oikawa once again for just a moment before forcing itself back to Iwaizumi. “Um, sorry, Iwaizumi-san. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just need the Itoh files.”  
  
Iwaizumi nods and takes the stack of manila folders from his drawer, plops them in Oikawa’s waiting hand. Daichi has to take one step to reach out and get them when Oikawa passes the files over his shoulder and, just for a moment, their fingers brush.  
  
The way long lashes lower and a chest moves with a deep breath makes Iwaizumi force back a frown, has his nod to Daichi coming off a bit short and sharp.  
  
Daichi leaves and Iwaizumi keeps quiet until the door shuts and privacy is given.  
  
“You need to deal with that,” he tells Oikawa, firm and concerned. Oikawa’s jaw tightens and Iwaizumi hates that he has to say it to him, knows it’s just egging on some pain. “It’s going to get worse if you don’t-”  
  
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa interrupts, lips curling into an absolutely poisonous smile, “are you my mom?”  
  
Iwaizumi takes a deep breath and sighs, reels back his worry.  
  
He’s not Oikawa’s mom, but it sure fucking feels like he is some days.  
  
“Fine,” Iwaizumi relents, poking his chopsticks through pork and sauce and soggy vegetables. “Whatever. Why are you here and not at work?”  
  
“...I worked through my own lunch,” Oikawa mutters, his jaw still set in frustration and words not even pretending to be sheepish. “And I needed to get away for a moment to clear my head. Keiji and the new kid are clouding up the place with this snarky little storm and they’re driving me _nuts_.”  
  
Iwaizumi lets his brow raise and accepts the bottle of green tea that Oikawa nudges toward him.  
  
“Yeah? You usually revel in that,” Iwaizumi comments as he unscrews the cap. “Something up?”  
  
_Besides the awkward situation between you and your boyfriend and my fellow employee._  
  
He keeps those words unspoken and watches Oikawa huff, lips twisted with annoyance.  
  
“No. It’s just that they obviously want to fuck, but they won’t _do_ anything about it,” Oikawa grumbles. The hypocrisy makes Iwaizumi’s brow cock, but Oikawa ignores it and pushes on. “It’s so annoying. Keiji hasn’t been laid in a century and he’s so _testy_. Honestly, with a face like his you wouldn’t _think_ he’d have a problem getting laid but nooo he’s just _so_ picky. You should have seen the man he turned down the other day. Honestly, I just-”  
  
Oikawa rambles on and gripes and Iwaizumi listens with a small smile, a tiny little bit of amusement running through him at work place drama that isn’t taking place in _his_ office.  
  
They talk and they eat and the tension from before melts easily enough, the two of them trading bites of their meals and chatting about this and that as they take a lunch that’s, honestly, way too long. They only start to clean everything up once Oikawa gets a text from Akaashi and they both grin at each other a little guiltily as they toss the take-out boxes into Iwaizumi’s trash can.  
  
“What are you doing Friday night?” Oikawa asks, stealing one of Iwaizumi’s tissues to swipe at his mouth.  
  
“The same shit I always do?” Iwaizumi tells him, raising a brow and reaching for his cigarettes. “Go home, have a beer, work on my cases, go to bed.”  
  
“That’s _boring_ , Iwa-chan,” Oikawa chastises, crumpling up the tissue and tossing it into the trash. “You should come out with Kou-chan and I. The library has movie nights on Fridays and, since it’s October, they’re playing horror movies all this month. They’re playing _The Birds_  this time. You should come with us.”  
  
Iwaizumi’s brow raises higher and then drops, a huff leaving him as he takes a cigarette from his pack.  
  
“Why do you love the library so much?” he asks, delaying giving him an answer. The thought is a little appealing, if he’s being honest, but he’s probably going to need to give attention to his cases rather than dated horror movies. “You’re always there.”  
  
“I _like_ the library,” Oikawa tells him with just a vague trace of impatience. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Yacchan and Mika-chan are the ones hosting it so the food is going to be extra good. _And_ it’s free.”  
  
Oikawa tacks the last sentence on like they’re back at university and broke and it makes Iwaizumi grin a little despite himself.  
  
“I’ll think about it,” he tells him. “No promises. Now get the hell out of my office.”  
  
Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him, but smiles as he walks out, something almost a little secretive in the curl of his lips. Iwaizumi is left to shake his head, roll his eyes and smile himself once the door closes.  
  
Movie night at the library. Yachi working. Mika working. Free food and spending time with his friends.  
  
Iwaizumi takes a breath and closes his eyes, leans back in his chair.  
  
Maybe he should go. It could be fun and he could always make up for his work on Saturday. It _has_ been awhile since he’s done that sort of thing. And there’s food and entertainment, the chance of seeing-  
  
Iwaizumi cuts off the thought before it can bloom, smacks away the memory of petal pink lips curled into a shy smile, blonde hair spilling over a thin shoulder in gentle curls, amber eyes and a soft voice.  
  
Nope, nope. That’s...that’s not the draw of it.  
  
Iwaizumi grabs his lighter and shakes his head, turns his attention back to work.  
  
He might go, he might not. He’ll just have to wait and see.  


* * *

  
Tuesday passes by, Wednesday drips by, Thursday rolls by, Friday crawls by.  
  
Iwaizumi honestly forgets about the movie night until Oikawa texts him and brings it back to his attention.  
****  
********From Dummykawa:****   _Iwa-chan, are you coming with us or not???_  ( ≧Д≦)  
  
Right. He had forgotten about it.  
  
Iwaizumi hesitates and looks at the file he was planning on taking home with him, thinks about the beer and take-out that he had been dreaming about picking up.  
  
He really should go home and work on his case. That would be the responsible thing to do.  
  
Iwaizumi’s phone buzzes again and he sighs at the new text from Oikawa.  
  
****From Dummykawa:****   _It starts at 7:30! You better be there!_  ヾ(`ヘ´)ﾉﾞ  
  
Another text right after, this one from Suga.  
  
****From Suga:****   _He’s going to pout all night if you don’t show. *Please* Hajime_  （－||－）  
  
Iwaizumi huffs this time and runs his hand through his hair.  
  
It’s going to be a pain in the ass if Oikawa gets pouty over this. More so if Suga gets annoyed with him for not showing up. He wouldn’t put it past Oikawa to sulk throughout the weekend and he wouldn’t put it past Suga to come pick him up and strong arm him into the night.  
  
Shit.  
  
Well...there’s always tomorrow for work. And he did bail on Oikawa on Wednesday. And staying at home working on his cases all alone isn’t _that_ appealing of a way to start his weekend.  
  
Ah, fuck it.  
  
Iwaizumi texts them both back to let them know he’ll be there and then gathers up his briefcase, his files, his laptop. It’s already late enough that the secretary is gone and most of the offices are cleared out. Daichi’s still in his own when Iwaizumi walks past, head in his hands and a bottle of scotch on his desk.  
  
He thinks about asking Daichi if he wants to come with him, remembers Oikawa and Suga and decides it wouldn’t be for the best.  
  
Those three really need to get their shit together.  
  
It’s a quick drive home and he shucks off his suit when he gets there, scowls at the stubble dusting his jawline when he looks into his bathroom mirror. He thinks about shaving but it seems like too much effort for a free movie night at the public library so he just leaves it be.  
  
A change of clothes, a beer, a cigarette and then he leaves.  
  
Traffic is a bitch and Iwaizumi gets to the library with five minutes to spare and _several_ demanding texts from his friends asking where the hell he is. They’re waiting for him outside the library once he gets there- why they’re not inside is beyond him- and they latch onto him with matching looks of annoyance.  
  
“Come on, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa demands, tugging him toward the door impatiently. “We’ve already missed the good seats and everyone is going to take the food!”  
  
Iwaizumi huffs over that and rolls his eyes- it’s probably just pizza; it’s not a big deal- but lets them drag him through the parking lot and to the front of the building. There are a surprising amount of cars in the lot, really. Iwaizumi didn’t quite expect the night to be so popular.  
  
Though, they are in a college town, he muses. Free entertainment is always sure to draw a crowd.  
  
When they walk into the building, there’s layer of sound that feels almost disorientating. It’s not loud, really. But it’s not quiet either. Certainly not something he’s come to expect at a library.  
  
It’s relaxing, though, in a way. Iwaizumi finds himself smiling as he glances around, lips quirking up at softly laughing couples lingering in the main room and the cluster of college students grouped around what he assumes is the snack table. There’s an itch under his skin telling him that he should be working, but he tries to ignore it the best he can, lets Oikawa and Suga tug him to the table to grab some food.  
  
He’s expecting pizza and chips, maybe some dip and possibly meatballs. Regular sort of event food, generic things to feed the masses.  
  
It’s a bit better than that.  
  
“Ooh, Yacchan made her macarons!”  
  
Iwaizumi blinks at Oikawa’s crooning and then huffs when Oikawa and Suga brush past him, crosses his arms and eyes the table in front of him.  
  
Macarons are on the table, just like Oikawa said. They’re on a nice little platter and piled into a tidy little arrangement, described by a neat placard. Joining them is a plate of stuffed cheese puffs, a tray of baked ravioli, a pile of some array of tarts, a bowl of meatballs, and three different pies sitting neatly next to one another. There are more than a few empty plates and it’s almost a little bewildering that _this_ is really what they’re being fed.  
  
”God, we should just keep her,” Suga moans, stuffing one of the cheese puffs into his mouth. One of the college kids beside him eyes him, but Suga ignores him without any trouble. “Yacchan would make such a good little wife. Can you imagine eating such good food every day?”  
  
”Yachi-san made all this?” Iwaizumi asks, disbelieving as he eyes the spread on the table. Someone huffs and reaches around him for a tart and Iwaizumi quickly grabs a plate, begins filling it up.  
  
”Yep,” Oikawa tells him, making the ‘p’ _pop_ as he smacks Suga’s hand away from his plate. “When it’s Yacchan’s turn to host, she always makes everything.”  
  
”But why?” Iwaizumi asks, incredulous and annoyed when the last bit of baked ravioli is snatched away.  
  
”’Cause she wants to do a good job and make sure people are happy. If people think of the library fondly, that could mean more patrons and possibly more funding. Or, something. Mostly, she wants to make people happy and she’s terrified of executing something that’s less than perfect.”  
  
Iwaizumi looks up and over his shoulder to find the other librarian behind him. Kuroo, he thinks is his name. He looks laid back tonight- more so than usual- and it’s a little weird to see him outside of the sweater-vests and button downs Iwaizumi has seen him in.  
  
Although, the bomber jacket and skinny jeans seem to fit him a whole lot better.  
  
”What are _you_ doing here?” Oikawa whines. Iwaizumi doesn’t have to look over to know there’s a pout on his face. “Shouldn’t you be at home or anywhere else?”  
  
”I’m _wounded_ that you’re not happy to see me,” Kuroo tells Oikawa, teeth showing as he smiles. “But, that’s okay. You’re happy to see me, aren’t you, Suga-chan?”  
  
”But of course,” Suga coos out, laughing after when Oikawa huffs. “What _are_ you doing here, though? You love it here that much?”  
  
Kuroo shrugs, the movement lazy, and Iwaizumi catches the small smile threatening to tug at his lips. Iwaizumi thinks that Kuroo is probably good at hiding his pleasure and that, maybe, he’s really happy about whatever has him at the library tonight.  
  
”Kou wanted to watch the movie,” Kuroo informs Suga, eyes darting to the front door. “So, here I am.”  
  
Oikawa snorts beside Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi elbows him, earning a grating whine from his best friend. Kuroo ignores him, his attention seeming to focus on Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi frowns at the grin that splits across the librarian’s face.  
  
”And here’s Iwaizumi-san. Does Yacchan know you’re here yet? I’m sure she’d be so _thrilled_ to see you,” Kuroo drawls out, grin curling up even more as Iwaizumi’s brow raises. “You should go say hi.”  
  
”Why would I-”  
  
”Kuroo!”  
  
Iwaizumi huffs, annoyed that he’s been cut off, and takes a step back when someone large barrels into Kuroo and nearly knocks him down. Laughter- laughter much too loud for a library- sounds and Iwaizumi raises his brow at the genuinely happy grin on Kuroo’s face, the way he playfully shoves the new arrival off of him.

“Dude- _library_ ,” Kuroo half-scolds, half-chuckles as he rights himself.  
  
The newcomer just grins back at him, wide and cheery. He turns to look over at Iwaizumi, but his attention is quickly distracted when he spots Suga and Oikawa. Immediately, he lets out a sound that’s almost like a _hoot_  and begins chattering a mile a minute, hands waving as he begins to talk about something involving a rabbit and a jog in the park. Iwaizumi doesn’t even try to keep up with it and glances around instead, shuffles out of the way when someone moves to get to the buffet table.  
  
He should probably find a seat.  
  
“Ah, Kuroo-san, you’re here! While we have you, can I ask-”  
  
Iwaizumi turns on instinct toward the soft voice and catches sight of Yachi just in time to catch her eyes widening. A tiny squeak of surprise leaves her and there’s a light flush that crosses over her cheeks, a bite given to her bottom lip. It’s cute, that, and it’s cute how her head ducks in embarrassment, how her hands clasp together as her flush flares.  
  
“Iwa- Iwaizumi-san,” she greets, words almost _anxious_  to Iwaizumi’s ears. “It’s, um, nice to see you!”  
  
“Nice to see you too, Yachi-san,” Iwaizumi tells her in return. Somehow she seems to blush darker and Iwaizumi nearly raises his brow at the color on her cheeks, the grin that Kuroo is leering at him over her head. He ignores it the best he can and searches for something to say, ends up jerking his head toward the buffet. “Nice job on the food, by the way.”  
  
Yachi’s head snaps up and she looks at Iwaizumi with surprise, eyes widening and lips parting in such a way that it sends an odd pang through Iwaizumi’s chest. She is _really_  cute and he shouldn’t allow himself to enjoy the way pink stains her cheeks and shyness passes over her face, but _god_  is she adorable.  
  
Anyone would think that, Iwaizumi reasons to himself. Anyone would agree.  
  
“I, um, thank- thank you!” Yachi tells him, almost a little breathless and still so shy. Her head ducks again and Iwaizumi watches as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, traces his gaze over a thin wrist. “But- but, um, it wasn’t all me. Mika-san helped, too. And Daishou-san…”  
  
Daishou?   
  
Iwaizumi’s brow cocks and his head does as well, bewilderment filtering through him at the thought of _Daishou_  working in the kitchen wearing an apron and making delicate treats along with Yachi. It’s hard to imagine and it seems surreal, something that Iwaizumi can’t quite reconcile with his impression of the cutthroat and honestly kind of snotty lawyer.  
  
“Aww, _he_  helped with it?”  
  
Iwaizumi’s attention flicks to Kuroo and he finds his brow raising even higher at the half pout, half sneer that he finds on the librarian’s face. There’s a sigh that gets Iwaizumi looking at Yachi again and he blinks at the frown on her face, the light bit of disappointment in the set of her lips.  
  
“Kuroo-san,” Yachi sighs out, almost seeming to hold a _scold_  in her voice. “Daishou-san was very kind to help us prepare for tonight. I know you two hold a grudge against one another, but please behave.”  
  
“Behave?” Kuroo asks. “Why would I need to…” Kuroo trails off and he groans, low and aggravated before shaking his head with a sigh. “He’s here tonight, isn’t he?”  
  
Yachi nods, looking guilty, and Iwaizumi glances around the room in an effort to catch sight of the other lawyer. He’s not sure if he _wants_  to be around Daishou tonight. He’d rather not be reminded of the work he’s abandoned for this or all the cases his firm is working on. If he’s been dragged out to relax, then that’s what he should focus on.  
  
Though, now he can’t stop thinking about how he needs to call his client and confirm a few details recently brought to light and how things have become just a little more complicated with his case and-  
  
“Yacchan!”  
  
Iwaizumi blinks as he’s snapped away from his thoughts and steps back just in time to keep from getting crashed into. Yachi lets out a startled noise, but then she’s quickly laughing and, shit, her laugh is cute too.  
  
“Tadashi, what are you doing here?” she asks, voice pitching into happiness. “I thought your flight was delayed!”  
  
“Eh, I figured out a new one,” the newcomer informs her. He looks tired to Iwaizumi, a sheepish smile on his face and bags under his eyes. “Ushi’s here, right?”  
  
“Uhhuh,” Yachi informs him. “In his office. He said he’ll be leaving once the movie starts.”  
  
The newcomer nods and then he’s gone, pushing his way quickly through the slowly disappearing crowd and hurrying toward where the offices must be. Kuroo snorts as the man hurries off and Iwaizumi looks back to him, curious.  
  
“Yama-chan sure is excited to see our director,” Kuroo drawls, some smirk dancing on his face.  
  
“Kuroo-san!” Yachi hisses, _definitely_  scolding this time. Her eyes flick toward Iwaizumi and she smiles at him, bright enough that he knows it’s put on. “Iwaizumi-san, the movie is starting soon. You should find somewhere to sit.”  
  
Right. He should do that.  
  
Iwaizumi hums and he nods, offering a polite smile to the librarians before turning to grab Oikawa and Suga. They’re both still chattering with Kuroo’s apparent _crush_  and they both pout when Iwaizumi tells them they need to go snag seats, but they follow easily enough when Iwaizumi threatens to get his own and not save one for them.  
  
“So cold,” Oikawa sighs out after they extract themselves from conversation with the loud guy- Bokuto is his name, Iwaizumi thinks? “I feel sorry for your next girlfriend.”  
  
Iwaizumi scowls and Oikawa grins at him cheekily, lips tempering into something just a bit softer when Suga’s hand falls to his forearm.  
  
“Please- we both know Hajime spoils them rotten once he has one,” Suga coos, earning himself a spot in Iwaizumi’s good books with his alliance. Suga smiles at him, so sweet, and then cocks his head, something mischievous dancing in his eyes. “Well, when he actually spends time with them. You know how married he is to work. Poor things always end up feeling like the side chick.”  
  
And now the brat is back on his shit list.  
  
Iwaizumi scowls and the two snicker to themselves, pulling on ahead and out of reach of any sort of smacks Iwaizumi wants to give them.  
  
Little shits. Why does he even hang out with him?  
  
Iwaizumi sighs to himself, suddenly exhausted, and follows after his friends, regret over not staying at home making his feet drag. It doesn’t help that his phone goes off once they claim three seats and he checks it to find a rambling text from Daichi that’s full of work talk and typos. When he tries to message him back, Oikawa snatches his phone from him a disapproving _tssk_  and promptly shuts it down.  
  
“Theater rules apply here,” Oikawa scolds. “Don’t be annoying to others.”  
  
“You’re one to talk,” Iwaizumi huffs, snatching his phone back.  
  
Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him and Iwaizumi scowls right back. He does slide his phone into his pocket, though, and tries to put it out of his mind, tries to ignore that Daichi is probably a little tipsy and still at the office- alone and tired.  
  
Maybe Iwaizumi should have invited him along.  
  
Iwaizumi sighs to himself and tries to push that thought away, settles into his seat and turns his attention to the projector screen as the lights slowly begin to shut off.  


* * *

The movie turns out to be, predictably, dated and vaguely awful in a way that’s almost amusing. There are a couple of little scares, but Iwaizumi doesn’t find it too engaging and he finds his mind wandering to work again and again as the _two hour long_  movie plays.  
  
It’s a bit of relief when it ends.  
  
Iwaizumi sighs and stretches his arms over his head as a few dim lights flicker on. Mika pops up in front of the screen before everyone hurries off and Iwaizumi waits patiently, not wanting to run off and be rude.  
  
Though he _is_  ready to just head on home.  
  
“Thank you everyone for coming to our first movie night of the month,” Mika calls out, clapping her hands together with a smile. “We’re holding another next Friday and you’re all welcome to come back. If you have any horror movie you might like to watch, feel free to drop a suggestion in our box between now and next week’s show! Thank you all again for coming and, please, feel free to take home any of the leftovers we have in the lobby. Drive safe and have a good night!”  
  
There’s a smattering of clapping at the dismissal and Iwaizumi slumps in his seat with a yawn. Oikawa and Suga are both too chirpy when they pop up from their own and Iwaizumi blinks tiredly as the self-admitted night owls tug him from his seat.  
  
“What did you think, Hajime?” Suga asks, hooking his arm through Oikawa’s. “Kind of dated, but it’s a classic, yeah?”  
  
Iwaizumi shrugs and yawns a little, following after his friends to the lobby. He really wants a beer and he really wants to crash now. He hasn’t decided if the night has been a waste or not and there’s a certain guilt rankling through him over abandoning his work for a movie that wasn’t really the best to him.  
  
“It was okay,” Iwaizumi tells Suga, scratching at his cheek. “I’m not really one for that kind of horror.”  
  
Suga hums and Oikawa hums as well, a bit softer as he leans against Suga.  
  
“I liked it,” Oikawa muses. “It was very aesthetic.”  
  
Suga snorts and Iwaizumi smiles a little, shaking his head as Suga presses a fond kiss to Oikawa’s cheek.  
  
“You would think that,” Suga tells him. He turns his attention back to Iwaizumi and smiles a little, lashes fluttering in that way they always do when he’s trying to be sweet and coaxing. “Maybe they’ll play something better next week. We should all come again.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi mutters, reluctant and more than unsure. He can’t afford to waste his nights watching movies that may or may not be good.  
  
“ _Iwa-chan_ ,” Oikawa pouts, “you’re such a bore. Come on, it’s good for you to do something besides work and sleep.”  
  
“I don’t just work and sleep,” Iwaizumi huffs. It’s a fucking lie, though, and he knows it. He looks away, not wanting to let Oikawa see the guilt on his face and scans the lobby, sets his attention on the sight of Yachi talking with Daishou. “…we’ll see, okay? It depends on my case.”  
  
Oikawa lets out a grumpy whine and Iwaizumi ignores him, rolling his eyes and focusing on just getting out of the library so he can go home and crash.  
  
He’s delayed, of course, when Daishou’s eyes fall on him and Iwaizumi is forced to go over and greet him so he doesn’t look like an asshole. Oikawa and Suga head on out and Iwaizumi curses them, curses the strange and smug look that passes between them.  
  
“Iwaizumi-san,” Daishou calls out once Iwaizumi is close enough. His voice is smooth, as usual, but it’s vaguely amused as well and Iwaizumi has to bite his inner cheek to keep from scowling. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”  
  
“Daishou-san,” Iwaizumi greets, nodding and offering him a dry, but polite enough smile. Yachi is still there, lingering, and it takes all his focus not to flick his eyes to her when he catches her fidgeting at Daishou’s side. “I didn’t expect to see you here either.”  
  
Daishou hums and gives a lazy shrug, shoulders rolling back and a placid smile on his face. He looks a little tired, Iwaizumi thinks, but he looks spotless as well- forever put together in a blazer and slacks even if he’s just at the library’s movie night.  
  
“I like to come when Mika has to work,” Daishou tells him. His head tilts to the side ever so slightly and his smile verges on a smirk, lids lowering just enough that he seems almost _teasing_. “Besides, I had to help move the food for Yachi-san, too.”  
  
Iwaizumi’s eyes flit to Yachi before he can help it and he catches the pink on her cheeks, the quiet and sheepish look that passes over her face. Iwaizumi hums at that and refocuses his attention on Daishou, blinks and nods.  
  
“Yeah?” Iwaizumi asks. He almost licks his lips, but manages not to. It’s a bad habit, he knows, and he doesn’t want to indulge in it in front of the other lawyer. “Heard you made some of the food, too.”  
  
Something flickers over Daishou’s face and he smiles a bit more, the edges of his lips almost turning sharp as he nods.  
  
“Yes, I did,” Daishou confirms.  
  
“Dai- Daishou-san is a really good cook,” Yachi pipes up suddenly, nearly nervous and looking flustered when Iwaizumi glances at her to check. “I’m grateful he helped.”  
  
“Oh, it was no trouble, Yachi-san,” Daishou assures her, oily and sweet. Yachi flushes a little and Iwaizumi finds his brow cocking, a certain curiosity running through him. “And it won’t be any trouble to help next week either.”  
  
Oh, that’s a surprise.  
  
Iwaizumi cocks his head and looks over Yachi, hums when he thinks of Oikawa and Suga’s desire to come to the next movie night as well.  
  
“Will you be coming back next week?” Daishou asks. “It looks like Yachi-san and Mika have been slated to run the movie nights this month.”  
  
“Have they?” Iwaizumi asks, watching as Yachi ducks her head. “So everyone is going to get treated with good food throughout the month, yeah?”  
  
“Something like that,” Daishou tells him, smile verging on a grin.  
  
“Will- will you be joining us next week?” Yachi asks, looking up at him with shy eyes. Some flush passes over her face and she ducks her head down again, hands clasping together in front of her. “Um, it’s just- it’s just always so nice to have a good crowd!”  
  
Iwaizumi tilts his head and feels his brow raise, confused over her (admittedly endearing) nervousness. He doesn’t think that he’s someone that can fluster anyone so easily, but he thinks maybe she’s just shy still, hopes that she’ll get used to him.  
  
…she could get used to him if he saw her more.  
  
Yachi peeks up at him again and Iwaizumi runs his gaze over flushed cheeks and soft lips, amber eyes holding a soft sort of light.  
  
God, he’s an idiot. He’s _weak_.  
  
Iwaizumi licks his lips and shrugs at her, rubbing the back of his neck and cursing himself when he thinks about how he can possibly free next Friday night up so he can come without guilt.  
  
“Maybe,” Iwaizumi tells her, almost mumbling it. “If work doesn’t get too busy.”  
  
Yachi blinks up at him, teeth sinking into her bottom lip lightly, and she nods before offering him a small smile.  
  
“I hope to see you then,” Yachi says, sweet and sincere. “Have a good night, Iwaizumi-san.”  
  
Iwaizumi nods and he mutters a goodbye to an amused looking Daishou, extracting himself from the two so he can finally head on home. It’s cool out when he leaves the library and he groans to himself as he walks to the car, shakes his head and tries to shake away the image of Yachi’s smile out of his head.  
  
He doesn’t have the time or desire to get hung up on someone cute and sweet, he scolds himself. He doesn’t even _know_  her. There’s no need to give into temptation so easily.  
  
Iwaizumi sighs and he slides into the car, lightly rests his forehead against the steering wheel as he tries to focus on things more important than pretty librarians and their endearing shyness.  
  
He’ll make a pot of coffee when he gets home, Iwaizumi decides. He can manage to work a little before he crashes.  
  
Iwaizumi sighs to himself and starts his car, pulls out of his parking spot and begins to drive back to an empty home and the work that’s waiting on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy it's been a hot minute. i had some writer's block with this and then a burst of motivation this morning, so new chapter ahoy~
> 
> Come say hi and hello on [my tumblr](https://moramew.tumblr.com/)~

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi and hello on [my tumblr](https://moramew.tumblr.com/)~


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